In the flat above the shop.
It was one autumn Sunday morning and I lay in bed with my boyfriend... and I suppose that's what he was.
My first 'official' one too.
Well in the past few weeks since we'd literally tumbled into each others lives in his small seaside shop, we'd been spending most of our spare time together.
Inevitably in bed more often as not. And while neither of us had actually said it, it seemed were were a 'couple'.
At the very least certainly heading that way. I suspected, that if not careful, we would actually be starting to fall in love. At least on my side.
But being two naturally shy and reserved guys, I suspected it would be a while before either of us would broach the subject to each other. It seemed we were both happy enough to assume the fact without saying it. As well as being shy we were both also desperate pessimists and didn't want to spoil a good thing by stating it out loud.
I'm beginning to see why we were such a good fit with each other. We fit together perfectly both physically and psychologically.
It might surprise you to know that neither of us had yet 'come out'.
We lived in the Northern Irish seaside town were we both grew up.
Which while it may not be the puritanical whirlpool of hell and damnation streetcorner preachers urging their flock to burn the heretic and sodomite you might imagine, it was still a reasonably old fashioned town.
And it was the place were we both grew up and had family and friends...no, neither of us had family there anymore, nor ever had many close friends but we were still too cowardly to be that open.
I doubt we would have fooled anyone if they could be bothered to watch us. I was staying there every weekend and sometimes during the week. In fact I'd helped him out in the shop a few times when it got busy on a Saturday afternoon and noticed the glances from semi familiar faces.
I'm sure some were talking but we weren't really caring. If it happened it happened. We were having too much fun in each others company and - literally - in each other.
I loved his flat above his shop.
It was small but he'd had it extended and remodelled upstairs while still keeping as many of the old Victorian features as practical. Including those two fantastic almost floor to ceiling sash windows which miraculously still had their original glass with coloured lower panes.
I had a sterile but decent apartment outside of the town on the other side of the by pass. It seemed I'd been barely in it the past month and then only to go to feed my tropical fish.
Tim hadn't been there yet and wanted to go, for some reason. But he had a 7 day a week job running that shop, so couldn't stay overnight. Though that was just the summer months. In a week or so coming into the late autumn and winter he would be shutting the shop at lunchtime Saturday and all day Sunday as the custom just wasn't there in the town centre in those months.
He seemed awfully and weirdly gleeful at the prospect of a weekend at my place.
And seemed to treat the prospect of the 4 mile journey with the enthusiasm and planning you'd reserve for a trip to Florence or Rome. He had gone into detail about the disgraceful carnal acts we would get up to in each of my utilitarian flat's rooms - which did appeal a lot, I'm not going to lie - and was positively giddy at the prospect of us making love, his phrase, on my bed.
An ordinary, and to be honest, slightly unsanitary wanking pit.
I made a mental note to put some fresh sheets on my bed before he arrived...did I have any fresh sheets?!
Apparently we'd be consecrating our physical and sacred union on the altar of my bed or some such bollocks. Which is what he'd told me the night before when slightly d*unk while we'd cuddled on the sofa watching a movie on Netflix (living la vida loca, eh?)
Tim was from a religious family.
Whoa! I've wandered waaay off path sorry.
Well we were both lying in bed.
We were a mess.
One of the joys of spending a night with a man, which was still a reasonably novel thing for me, was that on waking, one, or both of us, would wake up with good old fashioned morning wood.
Well only a churl would ignore such an opportunity and neither of us were churlish. So whoever had the tent pole would rouse the slumbering object of his desire and slake his lust upon them if they were willing. And both of us, so far, had been very willing.
Sometimes I'd fuck Tim, sometimes he'd ride me.
Occasionally we'd both woken stiff and ready to rumble and a swordfight and wrestle would ensue to see who would would take the other. And then after the other would reciprocate.
Of course the downside of all this was the hazard of bed breath while kissing.
Something I'd tried to remedy by keeping some Fisherman's Friends lozenges on the nightstand on my side of the bed and hurriedly muching them while we shuffled about prior to our Congress.
It wasnt a particularly successful ploy.
But the morning fuck was still quite the delightful alternative to the discordant squawk of the alarm on a clock or phone. Even it it did lead you to be late rather than punctual.
Who is going to rush down and open a shop at 9am on the button while his lover is holding him tight close, face to face, slipped deep inside him, pulsing waves of cum and both are whispering vile obscenities of desire into each others ear.
Not me guv.
God that was a good Saturday morning.
This, the following Sunday morning, was one when we'd both woke up hard. The wrestle was perhaps a little too enthusiastic and Tim had won. Damn him.
He was ten years younger than me and one of those annoying scrotes who remains trim and athletic with practically no effort at all. Along with the age difference he was a little shorter than me, 5' 8 to my 5' 11 and had the strong wiry build of a runner. Though he never ran or did any physical activity that I noticed other than our usually frenzied coupling.
He had not long turned 40. And I reckoned he could pass for early 30s easily. Yeah, he was a good looking man. I was lucky.
I was 50, but not in too bad trim. The pounds had started to pile on in the past year though. Not horribly so, and I'd made no conscious effort to lose them. Something that I'd now determined to start to do if I had to best and keep this gorgeous man.
I had a height and weight advantage usually.
But he had guile, stamina and athleticism.
Well the slippery little fucker had me in knots that morning. I'd put up a good resistance but he'd overwhelmed me. But it was not without eagerness that I took my punishment.
I don't know if that during our tussle, which was particularly physical, whether I'd hurt him in someway, but the fucking he gave me was something else.
I'd never noticed the intensity with him before. In fact most of our love making was tender and loving. Or started off like that, they'd been known to devolve into frenzy occasionally. It was just our awakening romps which were always be a little debauched.
This time it was fierce.
He was thrusting deep into me with vigour. I responded to his thrusts wanting him deeper still. We were face to face, my calfs on his shoulders. I could feel my aging back strain a little and knew that might be a problem soon. But I was too caught up in our fuck to give it too much thought.
His hard fierce thrusts.
I was riding, arching that squeaking back into each push begging for him to get more inside me.
I knew he wouldn't be lasting too much longer and yearned for him to fill me.
I shut my eyes. Lost and almost delirious. Every rhythmic thrust made me give a breathy moan like he was pushing air out of a bag. I just wanted his sperm to be inside me.
I wanted him to claim me.
Leave himself in me.
Be part of him.
Was this what he meant by ' consecrate'?
Cum Tim, please!
When he did and I didnt make a sound. I felt his warmth gush. I thought I might cry out. I actually tried, but nothing. As he spent himself in me, there were no frantic last thrusts. He also didn't make a sound. His last push was long and deep and he stayed in me. Claiming me.
I still had my eyes shut, lost in our coupling. I opened them now.
Tim was staring at me. It wasn't the usual loving, playful or tender look I normally got when we made love. It was like a predator regarding his prey. I felt like a deer in front of a wolf.
I was at once scared and thrilled. It barely lasted a second but seemed to last for ages.
Then the icy glaze melted, the normal look returned. He smiled then, panting for breath looked up at the ceiling and let out a long and loud, "Fuuuuuuck!"
He slowly pulled out of me. Immediately I felt a void as if I'd lost a limb (which I had in an odd way, just not one of mine) I wanted him back in me right now. And it was now that I made a sound. A sound like a stifled sob, a gaspy incoherent ''Uhh!".
I felt his essence slowly ooze out of me now as he knelt on the bed hands on hips, still looking ceilingward, deeply panting.
Of course we'd both come inside each other many times by this instance so I can't quite figure out why this particular time seemed so intense and special. It just did,
"Well that was something." he breathly said.
I said nothing. I couldnt say anything. I was, all at the same time, distraught that my lover wasn't inside me, sated to feel his cream inside me and slowly flow out of me, utterly, utterly mentally and physically exhausted.
And my back was beginning to twinge. I really should start going to a gym.
My cock lay semi on my stomach. During our frenzied fucking it had flopped about chubbed up but flappy and useless like an Action Man doll tied to the back of a small dog running around the back garden (yes, I did that as a c***d with the family pet and my brothers GI Joe doll. And it was hilarious. Neither doll or small dog were hurt or distressed by it. Though I was when I older brother got a hold of me)
Tim had now got my tumescent cock in his hand and was slowly wanking it to full erection. " "My turn" he said.
I was still too exhausted, gasping and drained to say anything, let alone mount this gorgeous man. I wanted to, God yes, but I just couldn't. I just lay there breathing like a beached fish.
He realised and stood up. Not easy on a soft mattress and your head nearly skelped on the ceiling light fitting. Took a couple of precarious and slightly alarming steps to straddle my prone form, and started to lower himself, holding my erect dick and cautiously impaling himself upon it.
The sight of him doing was very familiar somehow. That triggered something. A flashback to a long ago incident, not exactly forgotten but not dwelt upon for a long while. A pleasant incident, one that immediately made me smile.
I suddenly found the strength (funny that) to arch myself eagerly into him as he gingerly bounced a little to match my rhythm. I knew that I wouldn't last long (dammit!) and that it would all be over in seconds. So bucked and thrust, risking the old back again, but wanting to pump wave after wave into my sweet gorgeous lover.
So what did the bugger do next?
"I'M GONNA CUM!!" I almost shouted and he quickly stood up as I popped out of him.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!!!
Immediately though, he threw himself down and grabbed my just about to explode cock and quickly brought his mouth down to catch my issue.
Not quite quickly enough though.
His mouth was still a few inches away when I went off.
He was caught unawares, the first few spurts catching his cheek and almost his eye. Instinctively he jerked my cock away.
Ordinarily that might have hurt but I was engorged enough - and still baffling disappointed enough - not to feel anything.
So I finished on my stomach and chest.
And god how I finished. I surpmyself with how much I produced seeing as it seemed that we'd been fucking for most of the previous day. But I can produce a good load, I have that going for me.
Now Tim, my jizz still clinging to his cheek, threw himself down on me and eagerly started lapping my cum off my stomach and chest. Crawled up my body until his face was above mine, and as I happily opened my warm welcoming mouth, he dripped my own cum into it, then his mouth excitedly covered mine while our tongues merrily entwined in a thick bath of my semen. Our bodies glued together with sweat and sperm.
Eventually he rolled off me. And lay with his head on my shoulder as my arm was around him, our legs still entangled, heavily breathing.
That's why we were a mess. A sticky, sweaty, spittle-y, spunky mess.
Remember that I said that ww were a mess near the start of this tale, waaay back in...when... 1765 AD or something? Yeah, you'll have noticed that I'm not renowned for brevity or directness.
"Sorry about that." he said referring to his hopping off me at the height of the vinegar strokes.
"That's alright." I replied. I'd, I had forgiven him because of his gift of my jizz.
"Love like that needed to be finished with a cumkiss, don't you think?"
I mumbled agreement.
"Tell me about your first time with a man?" he asked.
Well it was inevitable.
He'd happily told me his torrid tale, which I've written about elsewhere and, I think, not finished.
About when he, at the age of 18, had, in my opinion, cold bloodily but clumsily planned and seduced a sexy older closeted married man in his 30s, who was a close church friend of his religious parents .
Whereas I wasn't happy to recall my utter heartbreak of my first man of decades before.
He hadnt asked me yet and I knew that he eventually would.
And while I wouldn't go as far as saying that I dreaded it I....well...it still felt raw though it had happened thirty years before. No, I couldnt. And here it was.
"Look, Tim, I...I don't think I can. Not yet. I mean I will tell you. And soon. But not now. Let's enjoy this morning. Its been...well, special."
We'd turned our heads and were facing each other now. He'd noticed my distress. Tenderly he stroked my cheek, kissed me gently on the lips and said, "That's okay, I love you , you can tell me whenever you're ready. Or not."
And he snuggled his head down onto my shoulder again.
I LOVE YOU?!!!
My heart skipped a little.
I wasn't sure I was going to say that myself, but circumstances were certainly drifting that way...yeah why not, we were in love. Probably. Maybe. A bit quick but why not.
In my joy I suddenly remembered the flashback I had as Tim lowered himself onto me just...well only minutes, before.
"I will tell you about my second time with a guy, if you want though?"
He perked up. I wasn't sure if he realised what he just said, but never mind, that would a whole other parcel of problems that we'd figure out soon enough.
"Yeah, tell me about the second guy," He propped his head up on his hand and was smiling at me,
"Go ahead. Spill."
*****************************************************
My first 'official' one too.
Well in the past few weeks since we'd literally tumbled into each others lives in his small seaside shop, we'd been spending most of our spare time together.
Inevitably in bed more often as not. And while neither of us had actually said it, it seemed were were a 'couple'.
At the very least certainly heading that way. I suspected, that if not careful, we would actually be starting to fall in love. At least on my side.
But being two naturally shy and reserved guys, I suspected it would be a while before either of us would broach the subject to each other. It seemed we were both happy enough to assume the fact without saying it. As well as being shy we were both also desperate pessimists and didn't want to spoil a good thing by stating it out loud.
I'm beginning to see why we were such a good fit with each other. We fit together perfectly both physically and psychologically.
It might surprise you to know that neither of us had yet 'come out'.
We lived in the Northern Irish seaside town were we both grew up.
Which while it may not be the puritanical whirlpool of hell and damnation streetcorner preachers urging their flock to burn the heretic and sodomite you might imagine, it was still a reasonably old fashioned town.
And it was the place were we both grew up and had family and friends...no, neither of us had family there anymore, nor ever had many close friends but we were still too cowardly to be that open.
I doubt we would have fooled anyone if they could be bothered to watch us. I was staying there every weekend and sometimes during the week. In fact I'd helped him out in the shop a few times when it got busy on a Saturday afternoon and noticed the glances from semi familiar faces.
I'm sure some were talking but we weren't really caring. If it happened it happened. We were having too much fun in each others company and - literally - in each other.
I loved his flat above his shop.
It was small but he'd had it extended and remodelled upstairs while still keeping as many of the old Victorian features as practical. Including those two fantastic almost floor to ceiling sash windows which miraculously still had their original glass with coloured lower panes.
I had a sterile but decent apartment outside of the town on the other side of the by pass. It seemed I'd been barely in it the past month and then only to go to feed my tropical fish.
Tim hadn't been there yet and wanted to go, for some reason. But he had a 7 day a week job running that shop, so couldn't stay overnight. Though that was just the summer months. In a week or so coming into the late autumn and winter he would be shutting the shop at lunchtime Saturday and all day Sunday as the custom just wasn't there in the town centre in those months.
He seemed awfully and weirdly gleeful at the prospect of a weekend at my place.
And seemed to treat the prospect of the 4 mile journey with the enthusiasm and planning you'd reserve for a trip to Florence or Rome. He had gone into detail about the disgraceful carnal acts we would get up to in each of my utilitarian flat's rooms - which did appeal a lot, I'm not going to lie - and was positively giddy at the prospect of us making love, his phrase, on my bed.
An ordinary, and to be honest, slightly unsanitary wanking pit.
I made a mental note to put some fresh sheets on my bed before he arrived...did I have any fresh sheets?!
Apparently we'd be consecrating our physical and sacred union on the altar of my bed or some such bollocks. Which is what he'd told me the night before when slightly d*unk while we'd cuddled on the sofa watching a movie on Netflix (living la vida loca, eh?)
Tim was from a religious family.
Whoa! I've wandered waaay off path sorry.
Well we were both lying in bed.
We were a mess.
One of the joys of spending a night with a man, which was still a reasonably novel thing for me, was that on waking, one, or both of us, would wake up with good old fashioned morning wood.
Well only a churl would ignore such an opportunity and neither of us were churlish. So whoever had the tent pole would rouse the slumbering object of his desire and slake his lust upon them if they were willing. And both of us, so far, had been very willing.
Sometimes I'd fuck Tim, sometimes he'd ride me.
Occasionally we'd both woken stiff and ready to rumble and a swordfight and wrestle would ensue to see who would would take the other. And then after the other would reciprocate.
Of course the downside of all this was the hazard of bed breath while kissing.
Something I'd tried to remedy by keeping some Fisherman's Friends lozenges on the nightstand on my side of the bed and hurriedly muching them while we shuffled about prior to our Congress.
It wasnt a particularly successful ploy.
But the morning fuck was still quite the delightful alternative to the discordant squawk of the alarm on a clock or phone. Even it it did lead you to be late rather than punctual.
Who is going to rush down and open a shop at 9am on the button while his lover is holding him tight close, face to face, slipped deep inside him, pulsing waves of cum and both are whispering vile obscenities of desire into each others ear.
Not me guv.
God that was a good Saturday morning.
This, the following Sunday morning, was one when we'd both woke up hard. The wrestle was perhaps a little too enthusiastic and Tim had won. Damn him.
He was ten years younger than me and one of those annoying scrotes who remains trim and athletic with practically no effort at all. Along with the age difference he was a little shorter than me, 5' 8 to my 5' 11 and had the strong wiry build of a runner. Though he never ran or did any physical activity that I noticed other than our usually frenzied coupling.
He had not long turned 40. And I reckoned he could pass for early 30s easily. Yeah, he was a good looking man. I was lucky.
I was 50, but not in too bad trim. The pounds had started to pile on in the past year though. Not horribly so, and I'd made no conscious effort to lose them. Something that I'd now determined to start to do if I had to best and keep this gorgeous man.
I had a height and weight advantage usually.
But he had guile, stamina and athleticism.
Well the slippery little fucker had me in knots that morning. I'd put up a good resistance but he'd overwhelmed me. But it was not without eagerness that I took my punishment.
I don't know if that during our tussle, which was particularly physical, whether I'd hurt him in someway, but the fucking he gave me was something else.
I'd never noticed the intensity with him before. In fact most of our love making was tender and loving. Or started off like that, they'd been known to devolve into frenzy occasionally. It was just our awakening romps which were always be a little debauched.
This time it was fierce.
He was thrusting deep into me with vigour. I responded to his thrusts wanting him deeper still. We were face to face, my calfs on his shoulders. I could feel my aging back strain a little and knew that might be a problem soon. But I was too caught up in our fuck to give it too much thought.
His hard fierce thrusts.
I was riding, arching that squeaking back into each push begging for him to get more inside me.
I knew he wouldn't be lasting too much longer and yearned for him to fill me.
I shut my eyes. Lost and almost delirious. Every rhythmic thrust made me give a breathy moan like he was pushing air out of a bag. I just wanted his sperm to be inside me.
I wanted him to claim me.
Leave himself in me.
Be part of him.
Was this what he meant by ' consecrate'?
Cum Tim, please!
When he did and I didnt make a sound. I felt his warmth gush. I thought I might cry out. I actually tried, but nothing. As he spent himself in me, there were no frantic last thrusts. He also didn't make a sound. His last push was long and deep and he stayed in me. Claiming me.
I still had my eyes shut, lost in our coupling. I opened them now.
Tim was staring at me. It wasn't the usual loving, playful or tender look I normally got when we made love. It was like a predator regarding his prey. I felt like a deer in front of a wolf.
I was at once scared and thrilled. It barely lasted a second but seemed to last for ages.
Then the icy glaze melted, the normal look returned. He smiled then, panting for breath looked up at the ceiling and let out a long and loud, "Fuuuuuuck!"
He slowly pulled out of me. Immediately I felt a void as if I'd lost a limb (which I had in an odd way, just not one of mine) I wanted him back in me right now. And it was now that I made a sound. A sound like a stifled sob, a gaspy incoherent ''Uhh!".
I felt his essence slowly ooze out of me now as he knelt on the bed hands on hips, still looking ceilingward, deeply panting.
Of course we'd both come inside each other many times by this instance so I can't quite figure out why this particular time seemed so intense and special. It just did,
"Well that was something." he breathly said.
I said nothing. I couldnt say anything. I was, all at the same time, distraught that my lover wasn't inside me, sated to feel his cream inside me and slowly flow out of me, utterly, utterly mentally and physically exhausted.
And my back was beginning to twinge. I really should start going to a gym.
My cock lay semi on my stomach. During our frenzied fucking it had flopped about chubbed up but flappy and useless like an Action Man doll tied to the back of a small dog running around the back garden (yes, I did that as a c***d with the family pet and my brothers GI Joe doll. And it was hilarious. Neither doll or small dog were hurt or distressed by it. Though I was when I older brother got a hold of me)
Tim had now got my tumescent cock in his hand and was slowly wanking it to full erection. " "My turn" he said.
I was still too exhausted, gasping and drained to say anything, let alone mount this gorgeous man. I wanted to, God yes, but I just couldn't. I just lay there breathing like a beached fish.
He realised and stood up. Not easy on a soft mattress and your head nearly skelped on the ceiling light fitting. Took a couple of precarious and slightly alarming steps to straddle my prone form, and started to lower himself, holding my erect dick and cautiously impaling himself upon it.
The sight of him doing was very familiar somehow. That triggered something. A flashback to a long ago incident, not exactly forgotten but not dwelt upon for a long while. A pleasant incident, one that immediately made me smile.
I suddenly found the strength (funny that) to arch myself eagerly into him as he gingerly bounced a little to match my rhythm. I knew that I wouldn't last long (dammit!) and that it would all be over in seconds. So bucked and thrust, risking the old back again, but wanting to pump wave after wave into my sweet gorgeous lover.
So what did the bugger do next?
"I'M GONNA CUM!!" I almost shouted and he quickly stood up as I popped out of him.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!!!
Immediately though, he threw himself down and grabbed my just about to explode cock and quickly brought his mouth down to catch my issue.
Not quite quickly enough though.
His mouth was still a few inches away when I went off.
He was caught unawares, the first few spurts catching his cheek and almost his eye. Instinctively he jerked my cock away.
Ordinarily that might have hurt but I was engorged enough - and still baffling disappointed enough - not to feel anything.
So I finished on my stomach and chest.
And god how I finished. I surpmyself with how much I produced seeing as it seemed that we'd been fucking for most of the previous day. But I can produce a good load, I have that going for me.
Now Tim, my jizz still clinging to his cheek, threw himself down on me and eagerly started lapping my cum off my stomach and chest. Crawled up my body until his face was above mine, and as I happily opened my warm welcoming mouth, he dripped my own cum into it, then his mouth excitedly covered mine while our tongues merrily entwined in a thick bath of my semen. Our bodies glued together with sweat and sperm.
Eventually he rolled off me. And lay with his head on my shoulder as my arm was around him, our legs still entangled, heavily breathing.
That's why we were a mess. A sticky, sweaty, spittle-y, spunky mess.
Remember that I said that ww were a mess near the start of this tale, waaay back in...when... 1765 AD or something? Yeah, you'll have noticed that I'm not renowned for brevity or directness.
"Sorry about that." he said referring to his hopping off me at the height of the vinegar strokes.
"That's alright." I replied. I'd, I had forgiven him because of his gift of my jizz.
"Love like that needed to be finished with a cumkiss, don't you think?"
I mumbled agreement.
"Tell me about your first time with a man?" he asked.
Well it was inevitable.
He'd happily told me his torrid tale, which I've written about elsewhere and, I think, not finished.
About when he, at the age of 18, had, in my opinion, cold bloodily but clumsily planned and seduced a sexy older closeted married man in his 30s, who was a close church friend of his religious parents .
Whereas I wasn't happy to recall my utter heartbreak of my first man of decades before.
He hadnt asked me yet and I knew that he eventually would.
And while I wouldn't go as far as saying that I dreaded it I....well...it still felt raw though it had happened thirty years before. No, I couldnt. And here it was.
"Look, Tim, I...I don't think I can. Not yet. I mean I will tell you. And soon. But not now. Let's enjoy this morning. Its been...well, special."
We'd turned our heads and were facing each other now. He'd noticed my distress. Tenderly he stroked my cheek, kissed me gently on the lips and said, "That's okay, I love you , you can tell me whenever you're ready. Or not."
And he snuggled his head down onto my shoulder again.
I LOVE YOU?!!!
My heart skipped a little.
I wasn't sure I was going to say that myself, but circumstances were certainly drifting that way...yeah why not, we were in love. Probably. Maybe. A bit quick but why not.
In my joy I suddenly remembered the flashback I had as Tim lowered himself onto me just...well only minutes, before.
"I will tell you about my second time with a guy, if you want though?"
He perked up. I wasn't sure if he realised what he just said, but never mind, that would a whole other parcel of problems that we'd figure out soon enough.
"Yeah, tell me about the second guy," He propped his head up on his hand and was smiling at me,
"Go ahead. Spill."
*****************************************************
1 年 前
